Training Days
by Someone took the name Rags
Summary: A quick stab at writing Weiss' past. May or may not continue.


Weiss, age 10, stood at attention in the shade beneath the great marble awning of her front door. The morning sun hung lax in the sky, illuminating the great lush garden and immaculate lawn that lined the red brick path leading from the front gates of the Schnee estate. Birds flitted by with gentle songs as the hands crawled across the clock. Yet even on a gentle spring day like this, Weiss felt a tension in her stomach and her palms had become slightly sweaty from nerves. She kept her eyes forward, focused on the brick path as it curved out of sight behind one of the massive rose bushes, waiting for a sign of her guest. That sign came in the form of a limousine, pure white, which rounded the corner and pulled up to the front door before coming to a slow stop.

Weiss watched as the driver stepped out, dressed in a pressed suit and cap, and walked around the vehicle to reach the back door. He pulled it open, bowing his head as he had been trained to do as the passenger emerged. A lean old woman with a length of snow white hair pulled back into a bun stood hunched, setting a cane on the ground to help her balance as she stepped away from the limousine. Her clothes were modest, clean and elegant; a blue shawl over a white jacket, black button-up blouse, and a long skirt over warm socks and leather loafers. She straightened her horn-rimmed glasses as she thanked the driver for his time, and then turned her sights on Weiss. Weiss cleared her throat politely before bowing her head. 

"Hello, Madam L-" she bagan. 

"Madam will do, young lady," Said the old woman, whose voice wavered slightly from age. Weiss was taken aback, but did not show it in her face. 

"Welcome, Madam. I hope your journey here was comfortable." The old woman tutted 

"Comfortable? I spent the first length of it crammed in floating tin-can, and the remainder in a rolling one. I've been more comfortable in muddy trenches full of plague rats and bleeding brutes." 

"I'm sorry to hear that. Please come in out of the sun. I'll have a drink made for you."  
>The woman shuffled inside followed by the driver, who had dug her bags out of the trunk and tucked them under his arms. Weiss watched her go by, and a bit of concern found its way into her thoughts, but she remained straight and tall, following behind the old woman and leading her to the parlor.<p>

The interior of the Schnee estate was large, looming, and of course quite cold. The ceilings were high and hewn from stone, and many were decorated only with lamps and the occasional painting or window. The floors were brick and wood, usually covered in long, elaborate rugs. A veritable fortress, the estate had stood for hundreds of years, and would likely stand another hundred if things remained the same. The parlor, located just a short ways away from the entrance of the manor, was much more intimate by comparison. The ceiling here was lower, though there was still enough room for a second story which held several packed shelves of books and extra space for party guests. Weiss lead her own guest to the main sitting area, which consisted mainly of two sofas, an armchair that was her father's, and a coffee table already set for tea.

As the old woman took the armchair, Weiss straightened out her skirt to gracefully set herself on one of the sofas. One of the maids in service of the Schnees silently poured piping hot tea into two fine cups set on a tray before stepping back into the shadows from whence she came. Weiss took a sip, waiting for her guest to do the same before finally speaking.

"I'm grateful you made the trip here, Madam. I assure you, every pain will be taken on to make your stay here enjoyable." Weiss watched the old woman as she drank, examining her intent.

"I'm sure they will. Let's get down to it then, girl. Where is my employer?"

Weiss set her cup and saucer down. "That would be me, Madam. I'm afraid my letter to you was not entirely honest. You see, I shall be both your student and your patron." She looked over to the woman, keeping as straight a face as she was able. The old woman set her cup aside as well.

"I see. And I should tolerate such a great disrespect because of your lineage?" Her expression grew even sourer. Weiss could tell she was displeased to have been manipulated, and it was understandable.

"I do sincerely apologize for deceiving you. However my offer remains the same. You will be paid as much as I have promised, given full run of the grounds, room and board, and of course you will be free to step out whenever you are not working for me. I have no intention of strong-arming you into this proposition, despite what my 'lineage' may suggest, Madam."

The two commenced a brutal stare down. Weiss was not as confident as she attempted to project, but she had come too far to give up now. She held her back straight and kept her face calm. The old woman's eyes were bright for her age, and felt like cold beams digging into Weiss' flesh. Eventually, however, she narrowed her gaze.

"Tell me something, young lady. Does your father know of this arrangement?"

"No, I'm afraid. He is of the belief that I have hired a new dance instructor from Mistral. My old instructor was 'not up to the level I desired'. Even the servants attending us today were handpicked by me for their discretion and loyalty."

"I see you've thought this through." The old woman grinned, finally breaking the chilling tension in the air. "I respect a young lady with ambition. You know, there was a time long ago when women weren't encouraged to fight. That ended very quickly." Weiss smiled as well, and took up her cup once more.

"I'm glad we have come to an agreement. Please, enjoy a long rest before we begin. We can start practice in three days time." Weiss took a sip, but it stopped in her mouth when the old woman's eyes narrowed again.

"Three days? Do you take me for some decrepit nanny? We will begin immediately." She stood, setting her cup down and taking up her cane. "Show me to the room we will be using."

"Oh, but I thought-" Weiss was startled as the old woman turned to glare at her.

"You thought I had grown tired and dusty in my retirement? The gall of children today! I will have your woman here lead me to the training room, and at my speed I expect you to be dressed and ready by the time I get there, or we will start our first day on very unpleasant terms!" She shouted as she left the room, tugging the maid who had served them by the sleeve to guide her. Weiss rushed out of the parlor as well, dashing to her room to dress and prepare.

The training room, a refurbished music room where Winter had once practiced at piano and flute, and where Weiss later learned to sing and dance, was largely barren now. The rug had been pulled up, and the decorations cut down to necessary lighting, excluding the chandelier hanging high above that was merely too much trouble to take down and store. The walls had been covered in mirrors and a metal hand rail, neither of which were likely to come in handy for the practice soon to take place, but needed to maintain the illusion Weiss had set in place for her father.

Weiss took up position in the center of the room. She had changed into a loose shirt and shorts, as well as pulled her hair back into a familiar bun to keep it from her face. When the old woman finally entered, a full ten minutes after Weiss, she wasted no time shuffling over with the same maid from earlier following close behind. In the maid's hands was a large black case big enough to fit a guitar, but not shaped for the task. When the two came to Weiss' side, she set it down and opened it. Weiss peered in and spotted two thrusting-swords, one of wood and the other of metal, but neither brought to a point.

"Are these my training tools?" Weiss asked.

"Indeed. For now, take up the wooden one." The old woman handed her shawl to the maid, who folded it over her arm and stepped aside to give them room.

Weiss reached down and grabbed the wooden sword by the handle and lifted it. Despite the outer appearance, its weight was massive. So much so, she struggled just to swing it. The old woman rolled her neck and shoulders as Weiss tried to get accustomed to the weight.

"Madam, pardon me but this dummy sword is far too heavy to-"

"It is as heavy as it needs to be and no more. Your arms are simply weak and lazy from a life of luxury, but I will fix that. Training begins now! Widen your stance!" The old woman shouted, using her cane to whack Weiss' knees and spread them until they were comfortably shoulder width apart.

"Ow! Madam, if you might-" Weiss began

"You'll speak when you are called upon! Back straight! Shoulders back! Knees bent! More! More!" She shouted in her frail voice, whacking Weiss again and again with the wooden cane each time she barked. Weiss winced, but took it in silence until the blows ceased, and she found herself in a highly uncomfortable and exhausting position.

"M-madam, is this correct?" She asked, hoping to put an end to the onslaught.

"Close as you'll get, I suppose. You look like a timid doe with those thin little sticks for legs, but I'll firm them up soon. Remain in that stance until I give you leave."

Weiss groaned under her breath, then inhaled and focused on herself in the mirror across the room. She'd done similar exercises when she was learning to dance, but somehow this one was more taxing. It hurt her thighs, back and shoulders, as well as her arm which held the wooden sword pointed out. It wasn't more than a minute before Weiss began to wobble, and finally could not continue despite her efforts. When this happened, she felt the sting of the cane again.

"I have not given you leave to rest! Reassume the stance!" the old woman shouted.

"Gah! It's not by choice! My muscles are giving out!"

"I did not ask for commentary! If you cannot handle something as foolishly simple as standing still, how do you ever expect to face down a beast of Grimm!?" She continued to shout and correct Weiss for a few more minutes, until finally relieving her and allowing her to collapse backward. Weiss began rubbing her thighs from the burning pain, and even felt tears forming. The old woman merely scoffed.

"You are a twig in the wind. This was only the first of many painful tasks. Are you sure you can handle my training?" She tapped the foot of her cane on the ground, almost mockingly. Weiss gritted her teeth and gave her what would later become her signature glare.

"Madam, do not mistake my pain for weakness. I didn't summon you here to be coddled. I summoned you to make me into a warrior, and I won't stop until I've reached that goal." With that, Weiss stood and took up her wooden sword again. The old woman smiled; a true smile this time, albeit feisty. She brought her cane up under Weiss' chin and looked her directly in the eye.

"Good. Remember that fire, girl. That heat in your heart will be your true weapon against your enemies. Demure and dainty may work for debutantes, but if you want to kill, you must learn to set aside those foolish notions. From this day forward, I will work you to the bone, but mark my words: when I'm through with you, you will be nothing less than the best! The best! Am I understood?!"

"Yes, Madam," Weiss responded, still glaring. The cane dropped, and the old woman turned away.

"Next we will begin conditioning. This room is a good size. Sprint to the far wall, touch the floor, and then sprint to the other and repeat." The old woman stood aside and leaned on her cane.

"For how long, Madam?" Weiss asked, beginning a light jog across the floor.

"Until you collapse! Sprint!"


End file.
